


About a Long Night

by wonderofasunrise



Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderofasunrise/pseuds/wonderofasunrise
Summary: Susan can't help but stay up watching Kerry sleep, and she wants Kerry to know why she loves doing so.
Relationships: Susan Lewis/Kerry Weaver
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	About a Long Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @bwayfan25, whose brilliant ER fics made me real hot for Kerry/Susan and prompted me to try writing for the fandom. I managed to finish this one the other night after binning a couple, and after posting it on Tumblr I thought I might also give AO3 a try.
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Reviews/ideas are welcome!
> 
> Disclaimer: These characters are, sadly, not mine. But a girl can dream, can’t she?
> 
> Featuring an excerpt from “Lost” by Dermot Kennedy, who I’ve been listening to a lot lately.

_For fear of moments stolen  
_ _I don’t wanna say goodnight_  
 _But I’ll still see you in the morning  
_ _Still know your heart and still know both your eyes_

* * *

“How long have you been awake?”

Kerry starts to rub her eyes, unable to contain her mild annoyance upon realising that the person whom she shares her bed with has been watching her sleep. Their room is dark with only a faint ray of light barely piercing through the window, but even without her glasses on she can easily recognise the pair of big green eyes staring at her, along with the smile that accompanies them.

“Long enough,” Susan smirks.

She is lying on her side, her head propped up on one of her hands—her favourite position every time she gets a chance to watch Kerry in slumber. Susan makes it no secret to Kerry that she finds the sight of her lover sleeping comforting, to which Kerry, in her typical defensive way, first responded by accusing Susan of wanting to see her at the most vulnerable.

Over time, however, Kerry has gotten used to it, to the point that there is nothing she looks forward to more than seeing Susan’s bright eyes and smile first thing in the morning—when their schedules allow them to spend the morning together, that is.

“You’re on at seven in the morning, Dr Lewis. Don’t push your luck,” Kerry tries (and fails) to emulate her Chief of Emergency Medicine voice, which comes as no surprise seeing that she has one of her eyes closed and her body relaxed against the comfort of her queen-size bed. Susan confirms it by sticking her tongue out in response.

“I’m not _Dr Lewis_ ,” she says in a mocking tone. “And neither are you Dr Weaver. We’re not in the ER, we’re home, and we’re just...us. Is my irresistible charm not enough to remind you?”

“ _Susan,_ ” Kerry groans, her annoyance growing ever so slightly by the second. “You and I both know we need all the rest we can take. I had a long day, which I’m sure you’ve heard about, and chances are you’ll have one yourself in a few hours. Come on.”

But Susan is undeterred, and instead she gently pulls Kerry into an embrace and lets her head rest against her pillow, moving closer to ensure that their heads meet. Kerry can now feel Susan breathing against her skin, Susan’s hand wrapped around her body with only the fabric of her pajama top between their skins. Kerry half-expects Susan to kiss her neck and cause her to blush in the process, but instead Susan just rests her head against Kerry’s shoulder while inhaling the familiar scent of the latter before letting out a sigh.

“Do you know why I like watching you sleep very much?” Susan murmurs, her tone suddenly serious. “And it’s not because I like to prey on you when you’re vulnerable, although you gotta admit that would be pretty hot.”

“Because you get off on getting on my nerves,” Kerry states matter-of-factly. Both of her eyes are now closed, as if it somehow would convince Susan that they really should be sleeping instead of talking, but Kerry knows better and mentally prepares herself for a witty response.

“I’d rather get off on your other things, thank you very much. But _seriously_ ,” Susan retorts, “do you have any idea how different you look when you sleep? How...peaceful and _relaxed_ you are? I swear sometimes I see you smirk in your sleep, and we both know that’s not something anyone would expect to see from you in public.”

“I’m not sure I have any idea as to how I look in my sleep, and I don’t think I’d want to know,” Kerry deadpans.

“You’re—you’re just you,” Susan happily ignores the remark. “You’re not an ER doctor, you’re not the Chief of Emergency Medicine, you’re just human—which I’m sure you’re aware that some people find debatable.”

Kerry is about to challenge that, but at this point she is just too tired and there is no way she can shut Susan up anyway, so she might as well let her be. All the while, Kerry lets her hand rest on top of Susan’s, her fingernails giving it a gentle scratch.

“I get worried sometimes, you know. That you don’t loosen up enough, that you’re content with people hating you and talking shit about you behind your back, because you deserve better than that. I think the world can do with knowing that you do have a heart, and not just in front of patients,” Susan muses, feeling Kerry squeezing her hand tighter now with each word.

“But then I feel lucky too, knowing your gentle side is reserved to those who deserve it. And you trust me enough to be one of those people. Heck, I’m the only person who gets to see you in pajamas and how cute you are when you’re cranky before having a cup of coffee in the morning.”

No longer feeling the urge to sleep, Kerry’s eyes are now wide open, staring at Susan’s as the latter shows no sign of ceasing her chatter. In turn, Susan, satisfied that she now has Kerry’s full attention, brings Kerry’s hand close to her face and places a soft kiss on it.

“When I—when we had our first _date_ ,” Susan continues, her smile growing even more at the word, “I remember you were getting tipsy after only one glass of wine, and you laughed so hard at something I said. I don’t even think it was that funny, but you laughed anyway and I just sat there, _amazed._ I never saw you laugh like that before. Granted, you had alcohol in your system, but the fact that you didn’t even try to conceal it said it all.”

Kerry chuckles as she recalls their first (proper) date, in which she inadvertently revealed to Susan that she was a lightweight, and she was surprised that she did not make any effort to conceal that. She was drinking and doing silly things as a result, but not once did she feel embarrassed. If anything, she was relieved that she could let herself loose up in front of someone she trusted completely, and she was beyond grateful that that someone was Susan.

There were no concerns about the possibility of being recognised by someone, nor were there misgivings about going public with their relationship—which Kerry normally has, ever since she started coming to terms with her sexuality. There were just the two of them, and the realisation that their feelings were manifesting into something more.

“It’s moments like that, and when you’re asleep that always remind me how lucky I am to see the real you. Sometimes I feel like keeping myself awake—even after pulling a double—simply because I don’t want to miss these moments when you’re just yourself. Because I want to always remember...how fortunate I am to be the one seeing you like this.” Susan can barely contain herself now, tears flowing down her face freely. She has to let it all out now, having expressed how privileged she feels to be with Kerry, to be the only one who witnesses her affectionate and loving side on a daily basis. To be the object of the said affection.

“Susan—baby, you’re crying,” Kerry raises her hand to wipe the tears away while sporting a concerned look. Susan, as if trying to tell Kerry to stop being concerned for nothing, laughs between her tears instead.

“I’m happy,” Susan takes a deep breath. “I—I never thought I’d say this, least of all when we first met, but I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time, and it’s all because of you.”

In many ways, as Kerry has learned, Susan is a fairly straightforward individual who only says what she means and means what she says, and coming from her those words feel like music to Kerry’s ears.

Unable to respond, having been rendered speechless at Susan’s sincerity and the way she expresses her feelings so candidly, Kerry simply kisses her on the lips, which Susan happily (and still tearfully) reciprocates.

“Me too,” Kerry says in a low tone that almost sounds like a whisper. “I’m the happiest I’ve been in years. With you.”

For a few minutes the two women stay silent—save for the soft sounds of Kerry’s breathing and Susan’s occasional sobs—as they lie still in bed, engulfed by the warmth of each other’s embrace. Time must have stopped for both of them, as for a time it feels like the stillness and warmth will never fade. As strange as this might sound, this is how Kerry always feels whenever she is with Susan: that the world around them stops as if conspiring to let the two be without anything in the way. There is no work, no hospital, nothing except Susan in front of her with her arms around her smaller body, and she knows Susan feels that way too.

“You know what will make me even happier?” Kerry smirks, and there is no mistaking the hint of mischief in her voice. “If you’ll get some rest, because God knows we really need it. And you know you don’t need to worry about missing any moment—I’m off tomorrow morning, and I’ll be right here when you wake up. First thing you see.”

Susan chuckles, pulling Kerry tighter into her embrace. She feels silly for admitting that she is worried about missing her favourite moments with Kerry, but she figures she can indulge herself in silliness once in a while. She is, after all, a woman in love.

“I love you,” Susan mumbles, her lips caressing Kerry’s shoulder blade. She has said this numerous times, and each time she knows that she always means it, and that it never gets lost on Kerry.

“I love you too,” Kerry kisses the top of Susan’s head and smiles at the sensation of Susan’s hair tickling her face. Similarly, each time she says the words she always ensures her sincerity comes across, which Susan never doubts.

Soon enough, the two fall asleep with their arms wrapped around each other, and again it feels almost as if everything around them stopped. There are just the two of them, sleeping peacefully without any care to anything or anyone else, and they know it is what they deserve.

All worries fading slowly, serenity begins to envelop Susan with the knowledge that she will see and hold Kerry first thing in the morning, all in a way that only Susan is privileged to witness, and that is enough for her to take on the world.


End file.
